


Closer to the Pyre

by Oh_Toasty



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arthur is confused, Arthur knows about the prophecy, Consequences, Gen, Hunith is scares, If things were just a little different, Introspection, Merlin is Scared, Merlin is bitter, Once and Future King, Prophecies, Smart Hunith, Uther is a bad King, appropiately so for someone living in a land that would kill them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 06:59:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18493777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oh_Toasty/pseuds/Oh_Toasty
Summary: In a land of persecution, and a time of  bloodshed… the destiny of a great kingdom rests on the shoulders of a scared boy. His name… Merlin.How can he save a land determined to kill him, and how can he help a man who will never trust him?





	Closer to the Pyre

Arthur is a little boy, perhaps seven or eight years old, when his father sits him down with Lord Geoffrey of Monmouth. He wrinkles his nose, irritated that he’s in a dusty library rather than practicing his footwork with the knight he was acting as a squire before. If he’s to be the best in all of Camelot, and he will be, he needs to practice not study. 

“Listen to me very carefully,” Uther instructs, and Arthur nods regally. Despite his boredom, he understands that he must obey his father to better their Kingdom. 

Besides, he knows that Morgana has never gotten a special lesson with just his father and Lord Geoffrey. 

Uther looks down his nose at Arthur, mouth set in a hard line. “What I am about to tell you is a secret that you must promise me you will guard with your life.”

“I promise, Father.” Arthur agrees readily, his youth apparent in his eagerness. 

“Very well, Lord Geoffrey, you may begin.”

“The druids have a prophecy,” the man begins. “One that predicts the return of magic to the land.”

Arthur frowns, “But magic is evil, why would they want that?”

“The druids work magic,” Uther replies scornfully. “Should you ever see their symbol, strike them down on the spot.”

Geoffrey shows Arthur the triskelion the king spoke of, before continuing. “They claim this goal will be obtained as a result of a sorcerer named Emrys, and a so called, ‘once and future king’.”

“Who is that?” Arthur asks, his blue eyes wide and curious. 

“A usurper,” Uther declares. “I have no doubt that this is a plot to overthrow us, and leave our kingdom in the hands of magic sympathizers. That is why I have brought you here today, to warn you of the threats to our family, to our reigns.”

“Thank you, Father.” 

That is the last they ever speak of the matter, though Arthur never forgets their conversation. 

Some nights, he sneaks into the library, searching for the book of druids and prophecies, but he never finds it. He wonders if his father burnt it for its knowledge. 

Years pass, and Arthur never quite forgets the prophecy that threatens his kingdom, but he does allow it to be buried in other memories. He has no need for constant paranoia, not when Camelot thrives under the hand of his father and magic is nearly eradicated. 

He thinks of Emrys rarely, but on occasion meeting someone new will spark an old paranoia, and Arthur will find himself watching them closely, looking to see if they plan to overthrow him. He wonders what he would have been like if he never knew that his kingdom was prophesied to fall to a usurper. 

When he is attacked by Mary Collins, a woman whose son had been burnt, he wonders if it has all begun. If the druids will strike soon, and replace him with another. But he was saved by a stranger, one who he vaguely recognizes as the man he’d sparred with in the marketplace, and as such he feels confident in his ability to retain his crown. Afterall, of even those new to Camelot see his worth, surely the people would object to his disposal. 

•••

Merlin is told from a young age, as young as he can remember, to hide who he truly is. His mother conditions him to suppress his magic, to fear it, and he does. 

He knows one day it will kill him. 

“It’s okay darling,” his mother soothes him, stroking his hair back from his forehead as he sobs after using magic once again. “We’ll figure this out.”

He is five when he discovers that he must use magic, or suffer the consequences. 

Uther’s men raid Ealdor, claiming they’re searching for sorcerers, but all of the townspeople know the truth. Camelot’s crops had been scare once more, as the king struggles to find farming techniques that will produce large yields without magic, and yet not destroy the land. 

“Do not use it,” his mother begs him, every time she sees him head for the door. “Stay inside, and hide.”

He obeys her. 

When the men of Camelot leave, nearly two weeks later, Merlin is feverish and ill. He weighs far less than a boy of his age should, and Hunith worries he will not make it through the night. 

“Please,” she prays, “Please Show me the way.”

No answer comes but for a bright blue ball of light hovering above her boy’s forehead. It pulses bright, once, twice and she watches in awe as Merlin’s fever dreams slip away in favor of restless sleep. 

He uses magic at least once a day after that, at Hunith’s request. She cannot stand to watch her boy burn, but nor could she sit by and watch him kill himself by denying a piece of who he is. All she can do is pray he will be alright. 

The day Will discovers Merlin’s secret is the day Hunith sets her plans into motion and writes her brother about taking on an apprentice. She knows that the correspondence will take months, may not even reach him the first time due to the unreliability of couriers, but it is all she can do to help her boy. 

She does not mention magic in the letters, lest they be intercepted. 

Everyday that she waits is agony. The townspeople have never liked Merlin, but the older he grows the more distrust festers. This close to the border, Camelot’s anti-magic sentiments are Ealdor’s own, and the people have always known Merlin was not the same as them. 

Merlin’s trips into the forest to use his magic discreetly do not help, nor does his lack of control. Several villagers swear he goes alone to practice the dark arts, while other claim they’d seen a flash of gold in his eyes. Only his kindness saves him, makes the rest of the villagers hold off for definite proof. 

Sending Merlin away is the hardest day of her life, but it must be done. Camelot is Merlin’s destiny, she can feel it in her bones. 

What she cannot feel is if that fate is the pyre or something more. 

•••

He watches a man burn as he steps foot within Camelot, and he knows that this will be his fate. He will die here, in this wonderful city, and he will be hated. 

He does not turn back. 

His other option is to die in Ealdor, hated but for Will and his mother, and there the two would be forced to bear the weight of his death much heavier. Here he has a chance to pass in quietly, without his mother knowing. 

He saved Gaius upon arrival, and he curses himself. So soon after the death he had witnessed, and he risks his own life at the pyres. He had no desire to die, but rather no way to live without risk, and he hates self bitterly for it. 

He finds a dragon that night, an honest to god dragon, and he is forced into the realization that he will never be just Merlin again. The dragon forces prophecies onto his shoulders, and even if he chooses to ignore them that is where they will lay. 

He stops time to save a man who would have gladly killed him, and is awarded a life of servitude. He barely restrains a laugh. 

He saved a man who would murder him, and placed himself closer to pyre. Yet, at the same time, he is no closer to danger than before.


End file.
